


The Effects of Blood

by Nicholas_Lucien



Category: Forever Knight
Genre: Blood, Flashback, Gen, Healing, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicholas_Lucien/pseuds/Nicholas_Lucien
Summary: Blood can have many effects as LaCroix experienced after drinking from the barber.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	The Effects of Blood

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt "Perhaps the feeling would pass" from brightknightie's fanfic workout buddies series on Dreamwidth. I had come up with a very short response but decided to write out a more complete story.
> 
> Policemen in England today are known as Bobbies, which is a reference to Sir Robert Peel who created appointed and paid constables in 1829 for London, but they had first been known as Peelers.
> 
> I do not own these characters and is not intended to infringe upon any copyright owners. No profit is being made from this work.

_August 1888 London, England < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < _ _< < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < <_

_He slowly and cautiously entered the bricked alleyway. A carriage and horse had passed only a moment ago, so he was now alert to the activity out on the street - he did not want to be found by a patrolling Peeler. The main road was quiet as he spotted someone crumpled in the alley. He knelt down and studied the man before reaching out with his gray-colored gloved hand to grasp and turn the head, exposing the neck. There, above the shirt, were the fang marks. The clarity of his next action became muddled when he heard the heartbeat. Standing, he turned and walked out of the alley and left the mortal behind._

LaCroix awoke, disoriented. He clenched his eyes tightly, waiting for the pounding in his head to diminish. With no control, recent memories randomly flirted past: lying on a hard surface with Janette over him, speaking with Nicholas, stumbling in pain towards Janette, catching a barber unawares in an alley behind the brick shops, flowing blood and cascading madness. He exhaled. And the last memory, though it felt more like a dream: seeing his victim still laying in the alley.

The sound of a weak moan beside him triggered an immediate reaction to move. LaCroix pushed himself away, then quickly corrected himself when he felt the sensation of falling. Crouching on the floor, he opened his eyes and saw that he had been lying on a bed, and his fall would only have dropped him a small distance. Difficult as it was, LaCroix focused on his senses to determine if he was alone in the room or if there was some sort of danger. The rustle of something moving along the fabric on the bed caught his attention, and he rose up to see who was there. He stared in disbelief at what he saw.

LaCroix carefully sat down on the bed, then reached over to push aside some stray strands of Nicholas’ dark blond hair. His son was to have left them, yet he was here. LaCroix could sense how weak his child was and could see how pale he was. Turning Nicholas’ head, he found the reason for the weakness. The bruises on the neck appeared quite dark compared to the faded skin, while multiple unhealed bite marks were at the center. Examining the other side of the neck, LaCroix found the same bruising and marks. He gently moved Nicholas’ head in a more comfortable position, then let his hand drop. A faint moan from Nicholas indicated his hand had touched something, and LaCroix glanced down. His son’s white shirt sleeve had been opened, revealing more bruises on the wrist. Making sure to not touch or disturb Nicholas, LaCroix got off the bed and sat in a close by chair.

He was finding it much easier to think clearly now. His mind had been in a chaotic spiral after feeding and bonding with that mortal barber. However, blood from Janette, and, glancing over at Nicholas, apparently quite a lot from his son, had cleared out the bad blood. LaCroix looked down at his right hand, flexing it. In the dream he had reached out with his gloved hand to examine the bite marks on the mortal. But this had been more than a dream. However, he did not own gray-colored gloves. He glanced over at Nicholas again. But his son did. He leaned back into the chair, considering what had happened. The dream was a memory, just not his – it was Nicholas,’ acquired during receiving of the blood. However, that also meant that Nicholas, despite saying he would not help with the mad barber, had actually done so. LaCroix smiled. Janette had been wrong: his son was not completely lost to them.

The smile on his face soon dropped. In the memory it was clear Nicholas was going to do something but was stopped because the barber was still mortal. Partially closing his eyes and concentrating, LaCroix could barely feel the link vibrating with his new fledgling. The mad barber had survived. He would deal with that convert later, when he was completely healed. As for Nicholas, disappointing as it was that his order had not been carried out, his son had, at least, gone to the alley. This reluctance his child had about killing mortals was a bad habit that needed to be corrected, but he found himself not concerned with that at the moment. Nicholas may refuse to do many things, but his son voluntarily stayed and helped with his healing. For that, LaCroix could forgive him. For a little while.

A wave of weakness washed over him and he felt the need to feed, not on Nicholas, but on mortal blood. When LaCroix felt better, he got up and looked around. He knew Janette was out, but she would have stocked blood for him. Soon he found what he was looking for and took a few bottles back to the chair by the bed. LaCroix watched Nicholas, still so weak from the blood loss, wondering how much his son’s blood was affecting him. Whether under Nicholas’ influence or his own free mind, LaCroix had decided to never bring up the barber with him – his son did not need to deal with the remorse and guilt of letting a mad vampire live. He removed the cork from the bottle, still mildly surprised how much he had picked up from Nicholas. Putting the bottle to his lips, he took a large gulp and began to swallow the liquid. Immediately, he bent over and coughed up the blood back into the bottle. LaCroix had an intense need to get rid of the blood and almost threw it away, but he mastered that thought. Forcing himself to calm down, he put the bottle in a safer place. With a low snarl, he realized he would have to wait before attempting to drink again. He knew the feeling would pass eventually, but it was annoying to have temporarily acquired Nicholas’ aversion to drinking innocent mortal blood.


End file.
